The Stag And The Wolfpack
by AssortedFudge
Summary: James should have known not to let Sirius organise his stag night. Waking up in a Muggle jail cell with no wands and no memories, this is pretty much Harry Potter meets the Hangover. Rated for swearing for the moment.
1. Where are we?

_This idea occurred to me reallllllly late at night... so that explains stuff. Once I made the connection to Alan's "wolfpack" and then the Marauders with Lupin's lycanthropy... well you can work it out._

_I own neither the Harry Potter series or the Hangover films._

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><p>The light streamed in through the tiny window situated right in the top of the cell wall, illumating the dirt and blood streaked face of the prisoner lying practically comatose inside. The bright light burned through his eyelids, causing his alcohol fazed mind to finally stir.<p>

"Urghhhh..." Sirius Black moaned and attempted to roll over in what he assumed was his own bed back at home, he was soon corrected as he promptly rolled off the narrow prison bed and landed painfully onto the cold hard floor with a loud thud and a yelp. "Shit!"

"That you, Padfoot?"

Staggering to his feet, he turned round and saw a bleary eyed James, missing his glasses, squinting at him from the bed on the other side of the cell. "Merlin, my head... where the hell are we? Shit, what time is it? Lily's going to kill me, we're meant to be meeting with her parents! Can you see my glasses anywhere?"

"I think we've got bigger problems than that, Prongs," Sirius replied, wincing as he touched his lip to find it burst. "Looks like we're in one of those Muggle jails." Suddenly realising something, he patted at his jacket and then knelt down to look under the bed. Sitting back on his heels he groaned and added, "And I dunno about you... but I don't have my wand."

"I can't remember anything from last night," James moaned clutching at his head, his usually messy hair matted and totally wild.

Sirius shook his head then winced. "Me either. Well at least Moony and Wormtail aren't in here with us, that means they'll be along to get us out of here soon enough."

"Unless they're in another cell... or worse," his friend pointed out. "We could be here a while."

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><p><em>Short I know, but I wanted to see if people would be interested in the idea before I turned out a million chapters lol. <em>


	2. Who are you?

Sirius took a run at the wall and jumped up, his palms on the small window ledge supporting his body weight as he peered out of the barred window. Falling back down, he dusted his hands off and shook his head. "Doesn't look familiar… just looks like a normal street outside, we could be anywhere."

James banged on the door desperately. "Hey! Can someone please let us out of here!"

Sirius snorted. "We could be _anywhere_! For all we know, the guards here don't even speak English."

"I should never have let you be in charge of the stag night!" James groaned. "A house-elf could have seen this coming."

With a chuckle, he moved forwards and clapped him on the back. "You had a good night though, didn't you? Which is the whole point of a stag night."

James looked at him incredulously. "We can't remember anything! How do you know if it was a good night or not?"

"Not being able to remember anything is usually the way I know I had a good night," Sirius shrugged as if it were obvious. "And hello? _I _organised it, obviously it was a good night."

Chuckling, James shoved him backwards. "Yeah alright, alright."

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><p>The floor shook violently as the train shot past on the tracks running just outside the window. Lying face down on the dirty brown carpet, Remus groaned as the vibrations jolted through him, breaking him back to consciousness. Rolling over onto his back, he yelled in surprise and scrambled back until he hit his head off a rickety wooden table. Three pairs of frightened and curious eyes stared back at him. Minutes passed, no one spoke.<p>

Lupin ran a hand through his hair and his eyes darted around the unfamiliar room; where the hell was he? And who were these people? The three women were huddled in what looked like the kitchen, and Remus realised with a start that one was clutching onto his wand. Oh, this didn't look good…

Finally opening his mouth to speak, he tried a friendly smile and said, "Umm… sorry but can I have my wand back please?"

One of the women started to shake her head and began muttering in a language he couldn't understand. Her voice began to get louder and shriller as Remus remained clueless. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying!"

The door to his left burst open, revealing to Lupin's relief a somewhat frantic looking Pettigrew... in only his underwear and socks. The women screamed and jumped back further, the one with the wand raised it with a shaking hand, trying to look threatening even though she clearly didn't know how to use it.

"Remus! We need to get out of here right now!"

"No argument from me!" he muttered jumping to his feet. Turning back to the three women still staring in shock at them, he held up his hands. "I…er...bye."

Darting after Peter, the two of them ran out of the flat and down the stairs. Bursting out into the open air, the pair continued running down the street, attracting strange looks from passers-by.

"Who... what..." out of breath and totally confused, Remus couldn't form a coherent sentence and they finally slowed to a halt.

"I'm…gonna…kill…Sirius!" Peter gasped.

"What the hell was that back there?" Remus exclaimed. "And where the hell are your clothes?"

"She wouldn't give me them back!" he whined. "I just had to make a run for it, then I found you were in the other room and-"

"So you know those people? You know where we are?" Remus questioned, feeling relief flood him. The feeling vanished abruptly at Pettigrew's bewildered shrug and he could have strangled the hapless idiot.

"Never seen them before in my life! Pretty sure we're in France though, I managed to pick up the odd word while she was attempting to kill me with my own wand!"

Remus rubbed his eyes and tried to calm down, without much success. "Okay, okay lets think about this, there has to be a logical explanation for everything. So, we wake up in a strange apartment in France with four women we seemed to have ... angered in some way, who stole your clothes and both our wands. They don't speak any English... we speak hardly any French. Sirius and James are gone... Merlin this is hopeless."


	3. Why are we here?

_Just for anyone who may be wondering why they don't just apparate back home, I googled it and on the Harry Potter wiki it says its disputed whether or not apparition needs a wand… so I'm going with the side that they do need their wands and therefore can't apparate :P I don't know how accurate the site is, but that's the reason you're getting lol._

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><p>"Okay, we really need to find you some clothes," Remus said at last as the pair wandered down the dirty cobbled streets. He'd offer him his shirt but… looking at how skinny he'd gotten recently then at Peter there didn't really seem much point. "You got any money on…" He trailed off, realising how stupid that question was. "Yeah, never mind…"<p>

They trailed along in miserable silence for a few minutes before Remus asked curiously, "So who was it that took your clothes?"

A rosy hue spread across Peter's cheeks. "I… I erm… I don't know exactly."

Remus let a ghost of a smile flit across his face. "You didn't wake up next to her did you?"

Peter's blush grew deeper and he mumbled something Remus couldn't catch, but his smile grew wider. "I think Sirius is a bad influence on you, Peter Pettigrew."

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><p>"Look, I already told you what we know," James said, peering at the blurry figure in front of him, frustration creeping into his voice as he tried to reason with the police officer. He'd been trying the calm reasonable approach for twenty minutes now and he'd had enough. "We were out on a stag night, clearly we had too much to drink. We can't remember what happened, how we got here, or even where we are, so I really don't know what it is you want us to confess to!"<p>

"Sir, you were found carrying offensive weapons and causing a public disturbance," the officer, Jack Perkins, replied in a bored tone of voice. Looking at the detainee in front of him, he couldn't hide a look of disgust. He saw guys like him every weekend, men who thought it was funny to get completely wrecked then wreak havoc and waste his time. It was depressing that he was still here, dealing with the same assholes week in week out, waiting longingly for that promotion which it seemed was never going to come. He held up an evidence bag, inside was James' wand.

"Care to explain this?"

_Oh shit._

James shrugged casually and tried bluffing. "Like I said, I can't remember anything from last night. Looks like a stick to me. Hardly _offensive _in any case."

The officer picked up a file, scanning for something in particular as he spoke. "Well, smart-arse, that wasn't your opinion last night, was it? Here we are, it's right here in the report. 'We need to blow the shit out of those bastard death eaters.'" He slammed the file down and stood up. Planting his hands down on the desk, he leaned forward and yelled straight into James's face, flecks of spit hitting him:

"We have had enough of your pathetic little gang wars around here! There are innocent people being affected and you little shits just run round, thinking you own the place! Well, not anymore!"

James flinched away from the forced shower and bad breath, and looked up at him, too bewildered and hungover for a smart reply. Where was Sirius when you needed him?

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><p>Back in the dingy flat two of the Marauders had just made their escape from, a short dark haired woman with streaks of dirt across her face and disgustingly yellow teeth sat cross legged on the floor, examining the wand between her long thin fingers.<p>

"Marisa!" she rasped, beckoning a younger woman toward her. She hurried to do her bidding and rushed to stand before her, nervously twisting her hands.

"Is it what we hoped it would be, Mother?" she couldn't help but ask and shrank back at the greedy look in the other woman's dark eyes.

"Oh yes," she said with a loud cackle. "There can be no doubt any longer."

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><p>"I can't believe you're even <em>thinking<em> about this!" Remus groaned, one hand over his eyes as Peter crept forwards from their hiding place behind three large well placed oak trees. Slumped against the street corner across the street, an old tramp was snoring loudly, a bottle tucked securely in the crook of his elbow. Without looking back at Remus as he inched forwards, Peter hissed, "I don't see you coming up with any better ideas!"

"Give me some time and I'm sure we can think of something better than stealing clothes from an old homeless drunk!"

Peter ignored the reply. His eyes darted across the secluded street and he gripped the heavy branch in his hand tightly as he closed on the unfortunate victim. Holding his breath, partly from fear, partly because of the smell, Peter extended his free hand and begun to gently tug off the man's dirty and worn jacket.

"Merlin…" Remus moaned to himself. How had they sunk this low?

The tramp murmured in his sleep, causing Peter to hesitate for a moment before making sure he wasn't waking up.

"Here comes the tricky part," he muttered to himself as he eased the man forwards and attempted to tug the jacket from around his back. All was going well: until the bottle fell from its perch and smashed on the street. The old man grunted and opened his bloodshot and bleary eyes, focusing slowly on the frozen man standing much closer than people usually did to him… holding his jacket. He staggered to his feet and yanked an old army knife from his pocket. Terrified, Peter watched him stumble closer, the knife raised threateningly and without thinking, he raised the branch he had brought for precisely this purpose and brought it down on the drunk's head with an almighty crack. He stood still for a moment, swaying slightly, and then collapsed on top of Pettigrew.

"Remus… little help…" he spluttered.

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><p>James walked back into the cell, defeated and tired. Either he had lost his glasses before they were arrested or they were deliberately keeping them from him, something that seemed unlikely but then it would of course make escape a lot harder if he couldn't see.<p>

"How are we going to get out of here?" he moaned, burying his head in his hands as he collapsed onto the bench beside Sirius. His best friend looked at him, for once his stormy grey eyes looked thoughtful and he scratched his stubble covered chin before answering.

"I think a situation like this requires some drastic action, don't you, Prongs?" he said as he got to his feet.

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><p>Perkins flicked between the channels on the tiny television in the back office, his bad temper increasing with the poor reception. Getting to his feet he strode over toward the offending device and thumped the side of it angrily.<p>

"Come on!" he growled. His ears perked up as they caught the sounds of something sounding loudly over the static. It was definitely barking, but it didn't sound like it was coming from the housing estate behind the station. It sounded as if it were coming from the cells... He shook his head. Just age, he thought with a melancholy sigh. Gets to us all, even the best of us. But the barking grew louder and the longer it went on, the more he was convinced he was right; it was definitely coming from the cells. Picking up his baton from the desk, he made his way out into the corridor and advanced carefully up the row of cells. The sounds grew louder until he stopped outside Cell 3.

"What the hell!"

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><p>:)<p> 


End file.
